


Happy Birthday

by dancey94



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e04 Oeuf, F/M, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: Alana visits Hannibal in his office after a tough day with Abigail. The good doctor takes care of his friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [langusta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/langusta/gifts).



> just chill, relax and enjoy

Hannibal was finishing his observations after his last appointment, when he heard a knock at the door to his office. His eyes left the notebook and rose to look in the direction where the sound came from. It was odd, since he wasn’t expecting any more patients that evening. The first thought that sprang to his mind was that it was Will. Hannibal was gradually gaining his trust and Will was exhibiting the need of having someone to be able to open up to.

Lecter glanced at the watch on his wrist, closed the notebook and rose from his chair. He opened the door to be surprised by the sight of a beautiful woman who happened to be his most respectable colleague.

“Hi.” Alana said, fidgeting slightly. Apparently, there was something that wouldn’t let her remain calm.

“Do you have an appointment?” Hannibal asked playfully, though with a straight face and a serious tone to his voice.

“Do you have a beer?” She replied, making Hannibal smile as he open the door wider and stepped aside in order to usher the woman inside.

She allowed herself to sit on the couch and he excused himself for just a moment. When he returned, he had a glass of wine for himself in one hand and a glass of beer, which he then handed to Alana, in the other.

“Interesting day with Abigail?” He asked and allowed their glasses to clank.

“Yeah, with grief work. Trauma, intervention. It’s all on course. I think she might be wrestling with a low grade depression.” Alana concluded as she took a sip of her beer.

“She?” Hannibal’s lips curved in a knowing smile and Alana played along.

“Nothing wrong with a little self-medication. Right, doctor?”

Lecter nodded and lifted the glass to his lips.

“Professional neutrality be damned. It’s so hard to watch a bright young girl go so adrift.” Alana spoke with passion and seemingly engaged in Abigail’s case.

“Perhaps it’s time Abigail is released from clinical treatment.” Hannibal proposed.

“Released where? Back into the wild?”

“Spending each day immersed in tragedy may be doing more harm than good. She should be out in the world. Finding her footing, giving her the confidence to move forward.”

“Abigail is in no condition to tackle her real world issues. Where’s she gonna live?”

“I’m not suggesting abandonment.” Lecter explained when Alana appeared sceptical about his proposition.

“Hannibal, this is a girl who was very attached to her parents. You stepping in as a surrogate, would only be a crutch. I think Abigail needs to figure things out for herself in a safe clinical environment.” Dr Bloom looked at Hannibal’s lips, made a pause, and continued. “And that will give her the confidence to move forward.”

“I defer to the passion of my esteemed colleague.” Hannibal said, turning to Alana and bowing in respect. The woman looked at him with a smile and when he turned away she kept her eyes on him. He had always been a good friend and someone she admired. “Passion’s good. Gets blood pumping.” Lecter added and raised his glass closer to Alana’s. She watched him sip the wine and then tasted her beer. It was good.

Not much time passed, when she realised the glass was half-empty and when she took the final sip, they were discussing something else completely. Hannibal watched her in the corner of his eye, pretending not to notice how quickly she drank the beverage. He glanced at his wristwatch and asked if she wanted to continue their discussion at his place.

Alana’s cheeks were pink, just as her lips which regained their natural colour as they left stains from the lipstick on the glass. She nodded and allowed Hannibal to take her home. Taxi was always an option if anything happened.

Lecter took her coat and hung it, then invited Alana to his living room while he was supposed to bring something to drink. He offered her also some snacks and asked if she would help him with dinner, to which she agreed politely.

Hannibal handed Alana an apron as she walked into the kitchen and pointed her some carrots to peel.

She was aware he wasn’t playing fair when he placed a glass with beer next to her. Yet, it tasted delicious and offered this familiar sort of warmth spreading over her whole body. It made her relax and for a moment stop thinking so much about everything.

It wasn’t until he undid the button in his suit jacket, when she realised her feelings for him weren’t entirely professional.

Hannibal took off the jacket, slowly and teasingly undoing each button, and tied an apron around his waist not to dirty his suit. He took a sip of the wine and then took a piece of meat out of the fridge. Alana watched him tenderly treat the meat, cutting it in pieces and touch it with utmost care. His long slim fingers seemed to caress the meat and she almost burst into laughter thinking how he must treat his lovers.

Not wanting to be caught staring shamelessly, Alana took a knife and started peeling the carrots, which she later chopped and handed back to Hannibal.

She sipped the beer and realised Hannibal did all the work – she only peeled the carrots, while he took care of the meat and other vegetables. He put the meat into the oven and turned to look at Alana. Slowly, he untied his apron and watched her take another long sip of beer. His smile was warm and friendly but she suspected he knew she was enjoying the show.

Wordlessly, Hannibal approached her and took the glass form her hand. He led to the way to the living room and she followed. There, he handed her the glass back and waited until she settled comfortably on the couch.

“It will take a while before our dinner is ready.” Lecter explained and put his own glass on the top of the harpsichord. He sat on the bench next to it and placed his slim fingers on the keyboard. Soon, the melody pervaded the room, surrounded Alana and roamed around the room.

Dr Bloom didn’t know the composition and assumed it was something Hannibal had written himself. The notes were soft with just a hint of danger. She imagined that was how he perceived her and smiled at the thought. Hannibal managed to turn to her in time to see the curve of her lips.

She took one more sip and then put down the glass. She joined him on the bench and looked at the notes above the keyboard. He barely glanced at them, as if he was playing from memory. That’s how well he knew Alana.

He played for another few minutes and then turned a page and glanced at Alana. She nodded, indicating she knew how to play it. They started gently and when he noticed she was actually pretty good, he increased the tempo.

When they reached the end of the piece, silence surrounded them. It was pleasant. Narrowing his eyes, Lecter watched his guest and finally took her hand and led her back to the couch. He didn’t sit next to Alana but stood in front of her, in a fair distance.

Her head was spinning slightly from all the alcohol she’d had that day and a melody was filling her mind. There was no serious thought bothering her at that moment. Hannibal took advantage of Alana’s state and hummed gently some song they both knew. Instruments, noises and voices seemed to fill the room even though, in fact, it was silence surrounding them.

Hannibal undid a button in his waistcoat, then another one, and smiled. He saw Alana watch him do it, clearly unimpressed. It was only a man taking off his vest, nothing sinful or unusual. But actually very sensual.

Hannibal threw the waistcoat on the couch, inches away from Alana. Then, he shifted the weight of his body, swayed his hips a little and reached for the knot of his tie. Slowly, he loosened the knot and presented the two ends of the material. Lecter tilted his head and got rid of the tie around his neck. It landed on the waistcoat.

The next move was undoing the top button in his shirt. That was when Alana realised it was really happening. Hannibal wasn’t only getting comfortable or trying to look more cosy and relaxed. He was teasingly undressing. He was doing a striptease in front of her. It was deliberate. He had known that preparing the food would take a fair amount of time and he planned everything.

The next button popped out of the loop and the fabric parted a bit more. It revealed thick graying chest hair. There was no shame and no hesitation. Lecter took care of another button, and another. Alana swallowed as she watched the shirt open completely and present a piece of flesh that always seemed so untouchable and unreachable.

Everything hidden behind perfectly tailored clothes – an armour for the body that was now in a plain sight. It was fascinating.

After Hannibal undid the last button, he reached for the belt in his pants.

That was almost too much. Alana cringed. She had to admit that she had fantasised about that a few times but she couldn’t have imagined that Hannibal would be so… open and straightforward. He just stared to undress in front of her without a word of explanation. Or maybe the only explanation she needed was that they liked each other, they both had had a rough time recently and Hannibal was just taking this opportunity.

The belt was out of the loops and it was simply dropped on the floor with a clanking sound.

There was only a button and a zipper left and Alana was starting to get impatient. She wetted her lips and took a deep breath, slightly afraid she may lose it.

Hannibal undid the button and took a step forward, approaching Alana on the couch. She leant forward, hoping that could bring them closer quicker. He moved towards her lazily, like a cat.

He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back so that she would lean on the couch. One of his knees was already next to her left thigh and he was leaning over her. His breathing was laboured but he didn’t do anything significant. The teasing was a torture.

Hannibal tilted his head and bent so that he could easily whisper in her ear.

“I know it’s not until tomorrow but I couldn’t wait to give you my present. Happy Birthday.”


End file.
